


Queen.

by Philemal



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aftercare, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Lingerie, M/M, Makeup, Riding, Skirts, Smut, Stockings, dominant yuri, im living, kinda??, lap dance, slight foot fetish????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9006082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philemal/pseuds/Philemal
Summary: A few months ago, he would’ve beat me senseless for even suggesting this—the outfit, the makeup. He was doing this on his own whims, now, dead-set on making my head explode apparently. I think he enjoys the power of it all. His legs, long and pretty, move with his hips, rolling in smooth, slow circles. I make a sound in the back of my throat. The light catches on his abdomen, slightly tone, glimmering. “If you touch me I’ll throw you out of this hotel room so fast you’ll get whiplash.” His breath is heavy as he takes my hands, pushing them away from my legs. He takes it upon himself to sit on my lap, face close to mine. “Got it?”





	

He’s wearing lipstick. Bright red, matte. His teeth are a pearly white, flashing sexily between smiles and speech, eyes narrowed and lidded suggestively. He’s wearing a chain that wraps around his neck, dangles low on his abdomen. His skirt was painfully short, showing just enough to leave me craving more. His legs are clad with stockings, a deep red color that complements his skin tone very well, connected to his lacy panties, complete with a bow. He’s shirtless, showing off his nipples, hardened due to the cold. He says something, voice in a whisper, fingers teasing and daring along my arms. The light is dim, giving him a sort of glow, blonde hair glinting in the haziness of it all. He had curled it, too. He bites his lip, and my mind can’t think of anything else but biting it myself. Biting him all over, really. Blue eyes twinkle, his conniving grin giving out more of his plan; more than he intended. I wondered what went on inside his head as he brings his ankles to the bed, shifting his weight on his palms, spreading his thighs for the world to see. For me to see.

“Watch.” He says, voice dripping with excitement. His hand slips between his legs, eyes caught by his own movements. “Look at how hard you make me.” I haven’t even done anything yet. My lips curve into a grin, his head tilting to the side, toes wiggling with anticipation. His fingers are stroking himself through his panties, his arousal throbbing with the attention, rouge lips parted in soft breaths. His chain slips off shoulder, tickling his free arm as he continued to toy with himself. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his. He has me within the palm of his hand, just as he always had. His tiny stature jolts when he hits a certain spot, a spot I’m all too familiar with, and he lets out a small mewl. “You like watching me?” I nod. He grins again, licking his lips, tasting strawberry. He flips his skirt down, hiding himself, his eyes shimmering again. “Too bad.” A sort of coo. “You’ll have to get me yourself.” His foot moves, breaking his position, shifting to my knee. I grab his ankle, maybe a little too roughly. He winces, lips parting again with a soft exhale of hot breath. “Mmm… Am I teasing the poor baby too much?” 

I raise his ankle to my lips, placing a soft kiss to his satin clad foot. He grins again, leg relaxing within my iron-like grip. His toes wiggle again, tickling the sides of my face. I kiss his toes, too, then the arch of his foot, then the heel. I can feel how he jolts, as if he’s trying not to kick me in the face. It’s surprising how ticklish he was. “That tickles.” He says, voice soft. “Why don’t you come and kiss me somewhere else?” I raise a brow, looking at him over his foot; my teeth nip at his ankle gently. He bites his lip, toes curling in response. “Beka…” A sort of whine.

“I’ve only kissed your foot a little. And now you’re begging me?” His eyes flash, and his foot jerks away from my hold. I grin. 

“Fine.” His voice is absolute, as he slips to his feet, a pout on his lips. He does a little twirl for me. A few months ago, he would’ve beat me senseless for even suggesting this—the outfit, the makeup. He was doing this on his own whims, now, dead-set on making my head explode apparently. I think he enjoys the power of it all. His legs, long and pretty, move with his hips, rolling in smooth, slow circles. I make a sound in the back of my throat. The light catches on his abdomen, slightly tone, glimmering. “If you touch me I’ll throw you out of this hotel room so fast you’ll get whiplash.” His breath is heavy as he takes my hands, pushing them away from my legs. He takes it upon himself to sit on my lap, face close to mine. “Got it?”

“Got it.” I repeat, maybe a little too quickly. Maybe that was the only way he could maintain control. He was rather sensitive, really. He grins, biting his lower lip. He doesn’t stain his teeth. I wondered why. He rolls his hips again, leaning back and letting my eyes rake over him, his palms on my shoulders. He hums low in his throat, barely nudging against the bulge in my pants as he gyrates, simply getting himself off on my jeans. “You’re so fucking sexy.” I whisper, hands itching to touch his hips. His eyes twinkle again, lips parting at the praise, coming close to my mouth.

“I know.” His breath is hot against mine, mingling nicely. I nearly shudder, thighs shifting underneath him, earning a pleased sound. It sounded more like a giggle. Was he drunk? He never giggles. “You’re a mess, Beka.” His hands go low, touching me through my jeans in the lightest of ways. “Could it be you like me like this?” 

“Like what?” I whisper, hips burning.

“Dominant. In control. It sure seems you do, Beka.” He leans forward, passing my lips, pressing his mouth against my neck. He leaves a lipstick imprint, for everyone to see. “Kitten.” I laugh.

“That’s your nickname.” He bites down on my neck, hips ceasing their movement. I gasp, fingers clutching tight into the upholstery of the chair. “Ok. I’m a Kitten.” He makes another pleased sound, leaning back and roving his eyes over the marks he left. “Does that make you a princess then?” He bites his lip to stifle his snort, hand gripping me roughly suddenly. The sound that tears out of my throat is low, and I can feel the shudder running through him as he grins wide.

“Makes me a goddamned Queen.” He nearly growls, voice rushed. Of course. Usually he doesn’t like the girly names, but tonight he seemed to be embracing them full speed. “You’re so hard, Beka,” He nearly moans out the words, teasing me on purpose. “Mm… Almost makes me want to take off my clothes and ride you.” I groan at the thought, nails tearing into the fabric of the chair now. He unzips my jeans, taking away most of the pressure. My head rolls back with a low groan, and I can feel his eyes travel down the exposed skin of my throat. He takes me out of my boxers, stroking me gently, making my head swim. “God,” He whispers, “You’re more sensitive than usual. I think you really like this, Beka.” I bite my lip, feeling his hand—so unnaturally soft—tease me. I nod, eliciting a soft sigh from his lips. “You’re being so good, not touching me. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Yes. I look at him at the thought, nearly whimpering at how dilated his pupils were. His lips were swollen, cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, hair clipped back to reveal his whole face unlike other times. “Still no touching.” He chides, placing a kiss on my lips, quick and seemingly innocent. He slips away from my lap, sinking to his knees, hands stroking my thighs. He hooks his fingers into my jeans, wiggling them down. I raise my hips for him, until they’re completely off—my boxers follow. His lips are on me then, kissing my thighs, leaving red in his wake. His nails are in my shirt, as if he’s holding himself back as he presses a gentle kiss to the tip of my arousal. I bite my lip at the sensation, trying not to let the groan past my lips. “Another rule,” He says, breath tickling me. “You’re going to be loud for me.” I nod, his teeth slip out and grazes gently against the sensitive skin. My breath hitches in my throat, his tongue, hot and wet, sliding over me. I look down at him, his eyes shut in concentration, lips working over me. He looks so pretty. He draws a line with his tongue up the underside of my shaft, dragging slowly back to the tip, before taking it within his mouth.

I groan.

That felt good. 

I want to touch him so bad, to run my fingers through his hair and push him down. “Yuri,” I say, voice warning. He looks up at me with those teasing eyes, blown wide with excitement, taking me in completely within his mouth. His nose presses to my base, and he inhales deeply, shutting his eyes once more to avoid the tears that welled. “Holy fuck—“ He slowly slides off with a soft sound, sucking on the tip daringly. I say his name again, his hands fist into my shirt again as he takes me in once more. It was like watching a fucking porno. He took me in with such ease, and made little to no noise—not daring to choke on me. He was elegant in everything he did, apparently. He sucks, hard, and I nearly lose it, hands clawing desperately at the chair. I almost said ‘please’. The first letter made its way out of my mouth before he starting playing with my sac, making my head roll back with a soft “Mm…” instead. 

He pops off, using his hand to stroke me off, kissing the sides. It must’ve been all messy and red by now—but that didn’t stop him. His other hand slips down, pressing against himself and releasing a soft moan around my shaft. I shudder at the vibrations, hips thrusting upwards. My hands move for his head, but move my own instead, fisting into my hair and pretending it was his instead. I choke out his name, spine tingling, a knot in my lower belly forming painfully. “Yuri I’m gonna cum—“ I stutter out, his fingers moving to my hip instead, digging his nails sharply into me as he deepthroated me again. My orgasm rocked through me with a serene shudder—bringing me such relief. He drank me, as if he were afraid to waste a single drop—and it’s something that was cute, actually. Like a kitten to his milk. Queen. I bite my lip, brows brought into a tight frown as I look down. He’s licking his lips. The color is faded, smeared down to his chin a bit—but he doesn’t mind. 

“That was hot.” He says, voice scratchy. He comes back and sits on my lap, careful not to touch me anymore, hands on the sides of my face. “Can you get it up again, big boy?” The nickname had been slightly insulting—as if he were daring me. Of course I could. I look to his lips and lick mine, wanting to kiss the shit out of him. “Mmmm… That’s it, babe.” His eyes flicker downwards, moving his hand down low again to touch me, encouraging me. “You wanna touch me, hmm?” I nod, a little too eagerly. “You wanna fuck me?” I nod again, this time harsher than the last. “Ok.” My hands are on him in an instant, and all the tension in my wrists ease the second they touch his smooth skin. I scratch down his back gently, hearing a gentle whine part his lips as I kissed him. And I kissed him hard. His lipstick smears all over my mouth. I taste strawberry and mint, and maybe a hint of wine—but I was more focused on the distinct taste that was Yuri. My right hand finds his hair, hanging low between his shoulderblades, and tugs hard. “Fuck.” He curses, between a kiss, and I take the opportunity to push my tongue inside and taste him even more. 

I stand, left hand hefting him up, crashing on top of him on the fluffy hotel mattress. He yelps into my mouth, and I swallow it greedily, growling lowly into him. “Babe—Beka—“ He whispers, fingers helplessly pushing me away gently. “Lube. I want you. Now.” I lick my lips at the thought, hand mindlessly reaching for the bottle of lube in the bedside drawer. He grins, nipping at my lips meanwhile, legs playfully pulling me closer. “Not too hard. We have a competition in two days.”

“No.” I say, and he bites his lip with another grin. “I won’t be able to help it.” Instead of grinning, he smiles, almost softly, and kisses my cheek with a nod, signaling that it was ok. It was going to be ok either way. I press back, having the bottle within my hands, spreading his legs. He came earlier, too, yet he was still hard and begging for attention. I unclip the stockings from his panties, sliding them off his long legs slowly—pupils dilating hungrily at the site of him. I nearly ditch the lube—wanting to use my mouth instead. I kiss down his body, coaxing a sound of protest as he pulls on my hair, wanting just my fingers. I kiss his chest, tongue flicking at his nipple, feeling him arch and whine helplessly. 

“Beka—no.” He says, when my lips near his thighs. “Ugh—fuck.” He relents, covering his eyes with an arm, his other hand embedded deep in my hair. I kiss his arousal, pretty and pink, twitching and wet with pre-cum. I move his legs to my shoulders, letting his thighs wrap around my head as I kiss his entrance. He was slightly slick, and I realized he tried to prepare himself before all of this happened. I groan, feeling his legs tighten around my head at the vibrations, pulling my mouth closer. I lick him, hands busying themselves to make my fingers wet with lube. I prod at him, slipping my tongue inside, earning a high pitched moan. He whispers out my name afterwards, hips twitching, pressing beautifully onto my nose and making me groan. My jaw aches, but I don’t mind. I press my finger against him, and press inside along with my tongue, finding a sensitive point and pushing there like a button. Two fingers, then three—and he’s melting around my hand. Legs jolting, head thrown back with his moans, hand tight in my hair as he practically grinds against my mouth.

God, he’s beautiful. 

Four fingers and he cums again, arching and writhing off the mattress, a prolonged, silent squeak parting his messy lips. He slumps against me afterwards, the fabric of his skirt tickling my forehead. He catches his breath for a moment, and pushes me away with his legs, clicking his tongue. “On your back. Now.” His voice has dropped again, sounding possessive. I grin, holding up my hands. He takes the opportunity to take off my shirt, finally, and push me down. His fingers are on my chest, seeming to worship me, and my hands go to his thighs, stroking small circles. “Have I ever said how much I love your abs?” He exaggerates the word “love.”

“You have. Several times. While you were cumming all over me.” He bites his tongue, taking my shaft within his hands instead, making me choke on my words. He kisses me, hand working furiously, and he bites hard at my lower lip, tugging equally as hard. “Ow.” A pleased grin. He smooths his tongue over my lip, licking away the small amount of blood he drew. He wets his hand with some lube, throwing the bottle to the side afterwards, and resumes his stroking. I didn’t really need much, honestly. He had gotten me nearly wet enough from just his mouth—I grin blissfully at the thought. 

“What’re you smiling about?” He asks, kissing my jaw, nipping the flesh there. I shake my head, moving my hands to his ass. “Mmf… ok.” He backs away, looking behind him and positioning himself, fingers soft. He slowly pushes downwards, lips parting in a soft moan. He feels hot, and tight—clenching around me in the most perfect of ways as he settles on my hips, legs trembling. He wiggles around a bit, until he finds that magic spot himself, and his eyes roll back with a whimper. He hasn’t even started moving yet; he’s already a tense mess. “You’re always so big—how are you so big? It’s stupid.” He stutters out, losing that dominant façade he worked hard to keep up. He bounces a little, testing the waters, and he sees white behind his eyelids. I grin, shifting my hips upwards, watching how his back curves outward, losing his arch. “Stop that.” 

I grip tight at his hips, wanting him to move already, and with a deep breath of preparation, he opens his eyes and looks at me, irises glazed over. He starts bouncing, hesitantly, but smooth and hard, grinding into his prostate on his own. His chain chimes with his movements, lips parting in sharp breaths, and soon to be moans. He leans back on his hand, touching himself with the other, hips faltering slightly with a soft whine. “Fuck, Beka,” He throws his head back again, as if he’s trying to hide from my eyes. He feels so good. I jerk my hips up, hitting his prostate head on, eliciting a loud cry. He leans forward now, placing his hands on either side of my head, coaxing me to thrust into him. He couldn’t keep it up for very long. I certainly didn’t mind. I thrust upwards, his lips hovering above mine, breathy moans escaping him. “More.” He whispers, hair slipping off shoulder and tickling my cheeks. He leans in, kissing me sweetly, hands falling into my hair instead. He wiggles his hips, pressing down onto me and riding me with jagged, broken movements. I groan into his mouth, feeling a curl in my stomach when he cums all over me. 

He tightens hard around me, shuddering with a loud moan, hips thrusting shakily. I pull out, releasing all over his back and the sheets instead. He would’ve complained about his stomach hurting if I did otherwise. He whines at the loss, lips falling away from mine as he completely collapsed on top of me. I support his weight easily, fingers gripping and pulling at his flesh, leaving it red and battered. He pants into my ear, legs and body twitching with the aftershocks of his climax, floating in post orgasmic-bliss. “Mmm…” He hums, lips sloppy against my neck. “S’ good.” I laugh softly, sweaty chest rubbing gently against his.

“M’ glad.” I mimic his slurred words, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His breaths even out, content with laying on top of me, hands soft within my own. “You tired?” A nod, followed by a soft, cute sound.

“Your fault.”

“Mhm.” I nod my head, feeling him laugh silently. I stroke his back, and take off his chain, throwing it to the side. It was a nice accessory, but now it just pressed into my chest painfully. “Shower?” I ask, and I feel him shift, shaking his head no.

“Tired. We’ll shower tomorrow.” He sits up weakly, sliding off of me and looking for the end of the sheets and blankets. He finds them, and pulls them upwards, covering me about halfway, and him fully. He had been so small—so fragile. Yet so strong. I smile while he snuggles into my side, stockings tickling my flesh. He even murmurs a soft: Goodnight. My heart flutters, and I stroke his hair out of his face, letting his breath lull me to sleep.

I love you.

**Author's Note:**

> this was literally written like just now. i didn't read anything over so there might be some errors! feel free to point them out! i also love reading your comments <3


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